


Black

by hazzard



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Philinda - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:58:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazzard/pseuds/hazzard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His apartment was black.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black

His apartment was black.

 

She fumbled for the light switch in the dark. It was on the left side. She remembered because Phil had insisted on keeping the coat rack on that side, even though it made it unnecessarily difficult to turn on the lights.

Her hand touched something that felt like wool. She guessed it was his favorite jacket. The one he'd bought a day after graduation. He'd said it made him look like a real agent. Fury always wore black. Phil had sighed and said it was time to throw the captain america jean jacket away. He was an agent now. Agents wore black.

She'd offered to take care of the captain america jacket.

It was still hanging in her closet.

She shook the memories off, and turned on the lights.

 

She wanted to call his name. She wanted him to come out of the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, rag on his shoulder, a spoon in his hand. She wanted to see his eyes shine. She wanted to smirk at his goofiness and secretly love him for it. She wanted to offer her help and hear him refuse, joking something about how he didn't want his kitchen to blow up. She'd pretend to scoff at that, but secretly love him for it. She wanted to sit down by the table, at the same spot she always sat. She wanted to eat his food and listen to his stories about his mom. She wanted to talk about nothing, but at the same time, everything. She wanted to laugh until her stomach hurt. She wanted...

 

She walked through the flat. The black leather couch where she'd cried in his arms, then woken up with a blanket over her, a pillow under her head and him gone. The TV where they'd watched old spy movies while eating popcorn and discussing all the inaccuracies. The black and white picture of the sea, taken by her, after he'd fixed up Lola and they'd taken her for a first ride. At least ten suits were hanging in his closet. Black, black, black.

She walked to every room. She turned on the lights in every room. She put on the TV. She found a candle in a drawer, and she lighted it. She pulled up the blinds.

 

She wanted light, light, light.

 

This used to be her happiest place. This used to be a second home. This used to be a safe place in the chaos and the hurt. Now it was the source of everything that made her want to scream out in agony.

 

It was black, black, black.

 

She pulled out her phone and stared at it.

 

Maria 01:23am.

 

How much a phone call could change.

 

That call had made everything black.


End file.
